


We're Not Them

by Tobyaudax



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst, Hand & Finger Kink, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mick Rory deserves so much better!, i'm sorry but i had to get it out of my head, suffer with me- won't you!, this is the most depressing thing i've written in a while
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-02-06 16:41:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12821700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tobyaudax/pseuds/Tobyaudax
Summary: Mick steals a few moments aside with Earth-X Leonard Snart. He doesn't stop to consider the ways he'll regret it.





	We're Not Them

**Author's Note:**

> This has been slumped in the back of my head for nearly two weeks and I had to get it out before it depressed the living hell out of me. I don't like writing things that don't have happy endings (unless it's for the Future timeline of DBZ- that shit's _made_ for angst!), but I don't think this encounter could end any other way.
> 
> Obviously I have no idea what Earth-X Leonard is really like, so I made a bunch of assumptions. You know, like you shouldn't do about people!

Like most of the things Mick ended up doing, this was probably a bad idea. And, like all those other bad ideas, Mick hasn't stopped to think before acting. He has the other Snart- Earth X, everyone keeps saying- slammed against a hallway in the Waverider, one hand slipping past his especially ridiculous coat to grip his hip like a lifeline, and the other curled around Snart's neck, his thumb rubbing a little too hard along the other man's chin. Mick kisses him like he's imagined, dreamed, of kissing his Snart since that day at the Oculus- rough and mostly tongue with some teeth for good measure. He kisses this new Snart like he's never tasted lips before and, technically, actually, he _hasn't_ tasted _these_ lips before. He's both surprised and relieved that they taste the way he remembers, from all those years ago.

But there are differences, things he refused to notice when he dragged new Snart down a different corridor than the one that led off the ship. The man from another Earth followed without protest- something Mick's Snart wouldn't have done. He'd have stopped or stalled or forced Mick against the wall, first. Always in control, always making the first, second and third moves 'cause he's had them planned out for weeks. But new Snart went willingly and when Mick kisses him, when he's almost lost in such painfully familiar lips, the same kind-of-salty, peppermint flavour, new Snart _chuckles_. Mick's Snart would laugh sometimes when they kissed, when they fucked, but it was a quiet sound, often bordering on sarcastic. New Snart's laugh is… warm, _happy_. Mick pulls back and he almost pulls away- this other Snart is _smiling_ at him, a genuine, pleased stretch of those perfect, pretty lips. Mick has to close his eyes when he goes back in for more.

He knows it isn't fair to new Snart, to use him like this, but Mick has been so lonely for so long, he doesn't really care. It's not like this Snart is protesting, not like he doesn't make like he wants it just as bad. Mick's hand slips up under Snart's shirt and he wonders if there was another Mick, if they were as close as he was to his own Snart. He doesn't have to wonder for long; new Snart is even more of a talker than Mick's. It starts with a moan- something _else_ his Snart wouldn't do, at least, never this early, never with just a couple kisses. But it's unmistakable and loud and _absolutely filthy_ \- a sound filled with such _want_ that Mick's more than half-hard from it. There's another little laugh, this one dangerously close to qualifying for embarrassed, and then other Snart has to go and open his mouth for more than just Mick's tongue.

"God, I've missed you so much," Snart mutters. One of his hands comes up and cradles Mick's face like it's made of glass. Mick is so surprised that he doesn't move, watching, baffled, as new Snart runs a thumb tenderly across his bottom lip. "Thought I'd never see you again-" he pauses and huffs a laugh that's much closer to Mick's Snart, bitter but still tinged with a noticeable amount of longing. "Never get to tell you how I fel-"

"I ain't him," Mick butts in, voice flat. His hard-on is slowly deflating in the face of this stranger. "And you're not- you ain't the Snart I knew. 'Get that straight right now."

"Right, sure." Snart nods sharply, the gesture familiar but the wounded look on his face making it alien all over again. "Sorr-"

"Jesus, don't _apologize_!" Mick lets his hand fall away from new Snart's face, then uses it to brace himself against the wall. He wants to pound his head against that wall. He wants to keep kissing this man that looks and sounds and, _fuck_ , _smells_ so much like his lost partner. He needs new Snart to just shut the hell up for five to ten minutes and let them both just have this.

"Just- just shut up and let's do this," Mick hears himself say. "Neither'a us is who we want the other t'be so let's just… ignore it. Pretend. …Just lemme me have this…" He finishes quietly, the usual gravel in his voice falling away. He's not begging.

New Snart opens his mouth, and then closes it with a snap. He grits his teeth, his jaw moving in that old, familiar way that always indicated he was working through something. His lips are a hard line and that face, oh, the face he's making now is pure Leonard Snart, _Mick's_ Snart, Mick's own partner, that Mick swoops in again and starts to alternately kiss and nip his way inside that gorgeous mouth. This time, Snart puts up a little fight; doesn't let him in right away and brings a hand up to fist in Mick's Henley. Mick forces himself not to pay attention to the fact that Snart isn't wearing gloves and he certainly isn't focusing on the lack of scar tissue he felt when his hand was up the other man's shirt a few moments ago.

He doesn't stop with the moans, though. Doesn't seem able to help it and they get louder the closer Mick gets, the more he touches. There are breathy gasps, quiet anywhere else but the near-silent hall on the time ship. They sound like storm winds to Mick's ears but he ignores them, tilting his head to bite and lick his way down other Snart's neck, snorting the even fluffier hood out of his way. That elicits another amused chuckle from Snart that gets bitten off when Mick stops and glares sideways up at him. When the only noise is their combined heavy breathing, Mick continues, shoving his hand back under and further up Snart's shirt and locating a nipple as he bites down harder at the juncture of neck and shoulder.

" _Mick!_ " Snart groans it like a prayer and thrusts his hips forward, grinding his cock against Mick's thigh. Mick punches the wall but he keeps going. He can't just stop now- they don't have much time left and they won't have a chance like this again. Ever.

Mick growls into other Snart's neck, sucking the place he bit, inwardly relieved he didn't draw blood. It wouldn't be right to mark up someone else. Snart's hands are all over him, unable to stay in one spot for long- he goes from grabbing Mick's ass to crawling those long, long fingers up his back and gripping Mick's shoulder blades. When Mick reaches between them and thumbs Snart's pants open, fingers finding the zipper and lowering it faster than he'd have done with his Snart, the other man does the same. But new Snart's movements are painfully clumsy; he fumbles with the button and can't get a grip on the zipper of Mick's jeans… and then he _laughs_ about it, mostly to himself. Mick grunts and gets his hand around other Snart's cock, pumping a little too hard to start. He just wants it over with, now.

A few seconds later and this other Snart finally gets his hand in Mick's shorts, curling those beautiful fingers around Mick's still half-hard length. He's better coordinated, now, his hand moving fluidly, grip just right, though not the same as Mick remembers. It's the wrong hand, for one thing- his Snart always used to jerk him off with his left. Said it helped keep him ambidextrous. New Snart uses his right and he's good; if he were anyone else, Mick would have no complaints. So he keeps his eyes closed and breathes through his mouth and does his best to tune out the moans and fucking _whimpers_ that keep getting louder and louder.

Snart finishes first, with a shout of Mick's name and a tight hold on Mick's ass with his free hand. Mick takes longer than he has with any other partner, finally coming with a quiet grunt into fingers that turn gentle at the end, stroking him to completion and through the few aftershocks.

Mick steps away as he tucks himself back into his shorts, turning his head when new Snart leans up for another kiss. He can't look at the other man anymore and doesn't care if he's managed to hurt his feelings. His Snart didn't kiss or cuddle or talk after hand- or blowjobs or sex. His Len didn't reach out after him when he walked away or whisper his name just loud enough for Mick to hear. His Lenny never cried a single day that Mick knew him. His partner was dead and no one was going to replace him.

**Author's Note:**

> I love Mick Rory _so much_ (and Len- I love them both!) and I'm sorry that I did this to him. Now I have to work _extra hard_ to get more done on [Rising Sign](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12031977).
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and I'll fall a little bit in love with you if you leave a comment. :)


End file.
